Phoenix
by Dagron
Summary: There were days when Masumi felt dread. She felt dread as though Shiho was going to be taken away from her.


**PHOENIX**

"Masumi."

There it was. The dry tone she'd come to know and adore. She pushed the chair back, balancing awkwardly with her leg against the counter. Tilting her head back she could see that glare. She loved how the other woman could express so much on an expressionless face by merely raising one eyebrow. If Shiho Miyano were a painting, she'd be a minimalist portrait full of sass with merely one eyebrow and a bob of hair depicted. Which would be a shame, because Masumi sure loved those lips.

"Stop licking your canines and get your feet off my counter." Shiho said, her flats clacking sharply on the tiled floor as she hit Masumi's foot with her clipboard. "Honestly, it's hard to believe you're a university student."

Masumi hovered a moment, before letting all four legs of her chair connect with the floor. She smirked as she stood, tackling Shiho's back.

"And it's hard to believe you're already working in a lab when you're only sixteen." Masumi whispered into her ear, enjoying the feeling of Shiho's hair against her cheek. They were both precocious, admitted into university years before any of their age group. Masumi was made aware that she had a tendency of letting it get to her head. In contrast Shiho always seemed to be trying to impress some non-existing parent.

Not that the non-existing parent would likely approve of Masumi visiting Shiho's lab in the few hours she had there outside of class. Not with how distracting she strived to be.

"Ma-Masumi..." There. A breathy sigh, full of the heat only Masumi knew how to draw out.

Masumi placed a small peck on the side of Shiho's throat and stepped back, acknowledging that while she had come here in the hopes of some quality time with her girlfriend, said girlfriend did have some work that needed doing.

"How about you show me these mice you were going on about?" She said, her tone more casual, hands in her pockets as she squared her shoulders back. "Then you can do your science thing, and after that the two of us can go to the match together."

Shiho had looked dazed for a moment, up until Masumi mentioned the match. She shook her head and smiled. "Right. Mice. This way..."

Masumi listened intently as Shiho showed her the cages the mice were kept in. She was explaining about this project she'd inherited from her long dead parents, her benefactors' hopes that she could make it work.

"If we are successful, this could change the field of medicine forever." Shiho sighed, a wistful glance up of her teal eyes. Masumi wondered what emotion Shiho would see if she looked at her. She certainly felt adoration listening to Shiho go on about her passion. It was hard to tell, sometimes, just how aware Shiho was of Masumi's affections for her.

There were days when Masumi felt dread. She felt dread as though Shiho was going to be taken away from her. She'd confided in her oldest brother about this. Mentioned how Shiho's benefactors would sometimes whisk her away over the weekend without notice, bringing her girlfriend back looking drawn and distant. There'd be ice in Shiho's gaze then. It would take days to melt away, Shiho seemingly hesitant to even touch her girlfriend. Masumi would have to fight her way past those barriers, snark and bark sharp witty tirades until Shiho would snap and join in. Then it was only a matter of minutes before there'd be a hint of innuendo and Masumi would get her in.

It was scary to Masumi, really. She had so much control over her mind, her body. Her girlfriend was the ultimate mystery.

"So what will your magic drug do to the mice?" She asked, keeping track of Shiho's conversation even while her mind dwelled on such grim thoughts.

"It should," Shiho replied, stressing the word, "should give them temporary rejuvenating properties. These mice have come from another lab, where they've been used to test various cosmetics and medicines. There healthy, but you can tell they've been affected." She pointed at one in the corner, borrowing its head in the litter with its belly showing. "Look at that one, it's got a rash on its skin that won't heal. And this one," this one climbing the bars, dangling from the roof of its cage on little clawed feet. "This one's back leg twitches uncontrollably. I'm hoping the drug will help their bodies correct these afflictions."

"Of course," Shiho added, stepping back to cross her arms in that collected way of hers that had Masumi entranced from the very moment they first met, "the most likely outcome is that most of them will die."

"What?!" Masumi reeled back, startled by the grim prognosis. "Why? How?"

Shiho sighed.  
"My parents' project held great promise, but death featured quite highly in the list of undesired side effects. Until I figure out the cause, I'm afraid most of these mice won't make it past Thursday." She crouched down so that she was eye-level with one of the mice in the bottom of a cage. "At least it would be a humane and quick death, for old mice who have seen so much pain."

Masumi shivered.

Shiho stood straight and kissed her girlfriend's cheek, excusing herself as she went to the counter with the most test tubes on it.  
"I'll just be a couple more minutes. Meet you down in the foyer?" Shiho asked.

"Sure." Masumi replied, slightly dazed, unsure, worried.

"Oh, and Masumi?" Masumi stopped at the door. Shiho stood tall in her lab coat. It was slightly too big for her, but Masumi could still appreciate the glorious slopes of her girlfriend's silhouette. There was a smile on Shiho's face that Masumi made short work of memorising. It seemed so peaceful, as though Shiho had already found her purpose in life. "I love you."

"Heh," Masumi grinned, her heart elated by those mere three words. She gave Shiho a quick hand salute. "I love you too."

The match went well, Shiho and Masumi keeping a running commentary together of the different fighters' styles, strengths and weaknesses. The technical side of it was lost on Shiho, just as a lot of the art techniques were lost on Masumi when Shiho would drag her to an art exhibition, but it was still fun to hear Shiho criticize them on their presentation and reactions. Masumi had snorted coca cola at one remark about one fighter's colourful attire. In the breaks they would discuss their classes, classmates and tutors. They both shared a love of physics where they would try and calculate the force behind one contestant's kick or how much speed would be required to backflip over the ring's fence for a perfect landing. Masumi had great ambitions of starring in a match like this once she was of the officially approved age. Shiho seemed to worry a little at the notion but needed little reminding of how well Masumi could hold her own.

Not that Masumi would pass up the chance to give her a demonstration later, as she wrestled with her on her couch. Shiho quickly laughed as she surrendered. Masumi treasured the moments she could share with Shiho in her bedsit, the auburn-haired woman understandably hesitant to invite Masumi over to her flat shared with an intimidating older woman. Shiho's flatmate and would be guardian was a notorious stickler for curfews that had both women rolling their eyes. They were university students for goodness sake, not children... Even if both were still sixteen.

Masumi really appreciated the freedom her mother allowed her... And Shiho's keenness for clumsy experimentation.

It was little surprise to Masumi when she awoke in the middle of the night to find she was cold. Shiho tended to leave without a word, willing to ignore her curfew an hour or two, but little more. Still, she felt happy. The two were in a good place.

It was a couple of days later that Shiho met her out of her Jeet Kune Do practice, looking harried. She was keeping one hand in her pocket, and dragging Masumi out of the changing room, whispering to her urgently. "We need to head to yours."

"What, Shiho... why?" Masumi frowned. Her dread returned nine-fold.

"Hush, I'll explain when we get there."

Masumi kept an eye on Shiho all the while as they climbed the stairs to her bedsit. She was skittish, looking around as though she expected to be followed. Masumi's heart sank. Had Shiho committed some sort of crime? Was... Was there someone after her?

Masumi racked her brains. She'd recently started solving the odd police case, following in her oldest siblings' footsteps, the tale of her father's murder always in the back of her mind. Shiho... Shiho couldn't be linked to something like that, could she?

Finally they were in the flat. Masumi dropped her bag on the floor and threw her keys on her table.

"What's up?" She asked, face completely serious, gazing into Shiho's eyes. She was ready to fight the world if she had to. She'd just got her own bike. If needed, she and Shiho could drive across the border into Canada. They'd figure out how to make it work from there.

"Look," Shiho said, delicately pulling something out of her pocket.

Masumi squinted at first, not quite sure what she was looking at. In Shiho's hand she could make out a tiny misshapen ball, with pink bits, a little fur. It twitched, revealing a small stringy tail.

"Ah... It's? It's a baby mouse." Masumi stated. She was stunned. Her spy movie inspired imaginings dissipated into smoke at the sight. "The mice... One of them was pregnant?"

Shiho shook her head. Her eyes had an intensity to them as she held the infant animal up. "No, we checked for that, and made sure to keep the males and females separate." She smiled warmly. "One of the mice survived. This one survived."

Masumi stared for a moment, trying to recall if there had been any baby mice in the cages when she'd visited the lab the other day. There hadn't been... This meant...

"No way..." Masumi breathed, unbelieving.

"My parent's drug worked. It worked beyond all expectations. The mouse is fully rejuvenated!" The joy in Shiho's voice was infectious. "This is incredible."

"And you couldn't just drag me to your lab to show me?" Masumi asked sarcastically, though she couldn't stop the warm smile pulling at her cheeks. "Did this happen to any other mice?"

"No," Shiho shook her head, the light in her eyes dimmed slightly. "I... All the other mice are dead. This is... This is the only one to have been affected like this. I..."

Masumi tore her eyes from the infant mouse, hearing the seriousness in Shiho's voice.

"I have a favour to ask." Shiho took hold of one of Masumi's hands, gently placing the mouse there, its back leg twitching slightly. "Could you look after it, please? And keep it safe? I... I think this mouse has earned itself a second lease of life. I'm not... I'm not reporting this to the lab. Not until I can... I can replicate the result."

Masumi took in Shiho's face, the earnestness in her voice. For once, the mask was down. Every line, every feature was full of an emotion that had Masumi's blood pounding in her ears, her face flushing as she realised what she was seeing. This was Shiho at her most vulnerable. This was a Shiho who cared so much, so deeply. This was the Shiho that every mask, ice cold demeanour, every barbed remark and barrier was built around to protect. It occurred to Masumi that this was a woman that knew pain intimately, and one that she was ready to die protecting.

In her thoughts, Masumi was ready to marry her.

"Of course." Masumi replied, to find Shiho's arms wrapped around her neck in a vice like grip, thank-yous muttered into her spiky tomboy hair. They spent the evening putting together some much improved accommodation for the small mouse, Shiho educating Masumi on the best things to feed it and how to give it a happy life.

Masumi was heartbroken the next day to find that Shiho's benefactors had whisked her away once more. When a week went by with still no sign of Shiho's return, she went to knock at her door, hoping the dour-faced chaperone of a flatmate would have some information. The flat was cordoned off, lined up for demolition. The lab in which Shiho had worked was already undergoing an intensive refurbishment. No sign of mouse cages or test tubes left at all.

Masumi's breast felt heavy, empty as she returned home. She stared at the small mouse in its new and improved cage, sat next to a present Masumi had wrapped. Shiho had mentioned receiving some photos from her sister, and Masumi had hoped she would like the gift of a picture frame to feature them in... With the bonus of a picture of the two of them enjoying the match the other week. Masumi fought to bite back her tears. They'd taken Shiho just before her birthday... For good this time.

A small laugh hiccupped its way out of Masumi's throat. She smiled in self-pity. Her dreaded fears had come true.

It sucked. But she would find her. She had to, no matter how long it took.

She dropped out of university and returned to her mother's, the mouse Shiho had named Phoenix in its cage under her arm. Her mother would know what to do. It would be good to catch up with her big brother Shuu before he left on his next assignment too.

Life took on a new routine. Masumi would train under her mother, compete, solve crime... and spend every night staring at the ceiling wondering. She never found any clues. Nothing. It was a though Shiho's benefactors were ghosts, touching the minds of all those they affected so that they would either forget or die. Shiho had mentioned a sister in Japan, but never where. Until she knew more, Masumi couldn't really head there...

She brushed up on her Japanese just in case, talking on the phone for hours about Shogi with her dork of a middle brother to practice. Her mother, bemused, would sigh and shake her head in a way that made Masumi's heart twinge. She even missed Shiho's sighs.

Shiho would have just turned eighteen when it happened.

Masumi's mother, following a hunch, had fallen. Masumi found her, not long after, cloaked in mist. Her clothing had become distinctly too big.

Masumi had nearly lost hope by then, but the evidence that Shiho's drug was now being used on humans was enough. Masumi was grateful her mother survived. She... She wouldn't have coped well otherwise...

Shiho's early warnings of her being dangerous made a lot more sense now.

Still, it had been over a year now. If she could find Shiho, maybe, just maybe...  
"I've got you mum..." Masumi whispered as she cradled the child her mother had turned into to her chest. "I've got you."

Shiho was always one to put up additional barriers in response to pain, to isolate herself. Well, now Masumi knew, she was the opposite. Pain made her sharper, driven...

She would become the sword to cleave that wall... and protect her.

 **Fin**.

 _Author's note : This may or may not have been written with "The Dead Woman" in mind. If you want extra angst. (Or I can head the other ideas in my head and make happy, fluffy continuations instead.)_


End file.
